Ghost Upon the Floor

A quick note. I'm still here. How embarassing, to think, it has been months since I last wrote a post.

 It is July in upstate New York. Heat and bright pressure leans down, in a dry, lazy haze that seems to have always been, and will never go away. Engulfed in the summer now, my run this morning through Forest Lawn Cemetery involved pushing through air that has seemingly been replaced by raw heat-- everywhere.

 In other words, I miss October. I spent part of this afternoon looking at the vast expanses of my cemetery photography, and found this album I took last October in a small cemetery in a nearby suburb  which is not very far from my city, and not very far from the very rural area which surrounds us.


 St. Paul's Lutheran Cemetery was established in 1849, by the Amana Ebenezer Society. Some background on residents of Amana settlements. A religiously-based colony of people from Germany who emigrated to the United States in the mid 1800's, the Amana communities followed a Catholic tradition, and believe in peaceful, quiet work toward one's faith and values, rather than evangelizing the Christian Bible. With these beliefs in mind, the Amana or Ebenezers lived a communal life, entirely self-sufficient, until the 1930's. First living in New York (where this burial ground lies), they later moved mainly to Iowa, and have historically been mistaken for Amish peoples.

 Today, their graveyard lies next door to the Mayer Brothers Cider Mill and Store, an absolute and frequent autumn destination for yours truly. The red buildings seen in these photographs are the cider mill, where each September and October pumpkins adorn the decor, and the smells of cider, apples, pies and maple syrup carry over the darkening light and into the cemetery each October.

 In only mere months these photos will be a year old-- but there's a certain something here, among the orange and the falling leaves between the stones-- that help pass these long, hot summer days. When it feels as if October is so far away.



You may view my Photo Album of St. Paul's Lutheran Cemetery here:

St. Paul's Lutheran Cemetery, in October

 Earlier in January, I ended up one Saturday in a section of Forest Lawn I'm not often in. Near one of the cemetery's lakes, there is a section filled with large, more modern mausoleums and statues-- some of which I have photographed before. Behind a row of medium sized mausoleums is a growth of trees and a riverbank, which leads to one of the quieter parts of the creek inside the cemetery. The spot is a safe little place ideal for quiet, thinking, calm.

 But I had never noticed what you can see there, up at the top of the hill on the opposite side of the area. One would think I hadn't noticed the mausoleum at the top before because of the heavy trees which, with their leaves, must surround and shroud the hill during the spring, summer and fall months.

 The mausoleum stood at the top of the hill, imposing. As I started to climb up the hill it stands on, I realized I'd never been up there before. And I'd picked the perfect day to start. The photos don't show how steep the hill actually is, I believe, and how difficult it was to climb through a fresh inch of snow up to the top. A newer section of the cemetery, most of the stones along the way were new, fresh and modern-- and contrasted with what lay at the top.

 Up close, the mausoleum is even larger than I'd expected. Though several random, separate markers populate the hill at the top, none appear connected to the mausoleum which bears no name. The Greek symbols/lettering for the Alpha and the Omega decorate the piece above the door-- and that is all. I searched for a name plate, a marker or something bearing a name, to no avail. Barring the slight possibility that something lays on the ground around the structure, the monument appears to be nameless. Once again, as so often within the cemetery, I was wondering. "Who were you?" 


 From the mausoleum, you are able to see much of this area of the cemetery. All of the section around the lake is visible-- and across the creek, to the first of the older sections of the cemetery, such as the one where the Pratt Monument lies. Behind the mausoleum, there is another steep hill down to the creek, with the cemetery's chapel directly on the other side.

 At the top you hear everything. All the sounds of the cemetery. The creek running around you, completely, surrounding you. The ducks and the geese from by the bridge. The wind in the trees. The silence of being in the middle of the vast cemetery. On this hill with what likely is the largest mausoleum in Forest Lawn, the mausoleum without a name.




You may view my photo album of the Hill here:

Forest Lawn, Hill, January 15, 2012

Almost a year ago, one of my Forrest Lawn postings was about the famous Forrest Lawn buck, and his guarding of a goose and her goslings, while they incubated and hatched. The story of nature's simple beauty and dignity was often included on local news reports, and Forrest Lawn went so far as to install a 24 webcam for people to watch the mother goose and her deer protector.